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<title>it sucks to be in love by phoenyxies (berriesbloom)</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24520282">it sucks to be in love</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/berriesbloom/pseuds/phoenyxies'>phoenyxies (berriesbloom)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dimension 20 (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bittersweet Ending, Daydreaming, F/F, Or Is It?, Unrequited Crush, Wandering Thoughts, Yearning</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 08:22:16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>932</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24520282</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/berriesbloom/pseuds/phoenyxies</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Adaine's having a rough time.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Adaine Abernant &amp; Ayda Aguefort, Adaine Abernant &amp; Figueroth Faeth, Adaine Abernant/Ayda Aguefort/Figueroth Faeth</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>50</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>it sucks to be in love</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>NO BETA WRITTEN AT 3 AM . THERE ARE NO GODS WHEN YOU'RE YEARNING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! im half awake ignore the typos this is my first time writing d20 fic and I am doing my best :)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I’m in love with both of you.”</p><p>Adaine stares up at the bottom of her bunk bed. The worn wooden slats give her nothing to distract herself with, she’s too used to them by this point. The words feel weird, coming from her mouth. She says it again. It doesn’t feel any less weird.</p><p>Alone in her room, the curtains covering her bottom of the bunk are tugged half-closed. She couldn't decide whether the illusion of privacy was better than knowing for a fact that no one else was listening to her right now. Her hands lay steepled on top of her chest, idly fiddling with her nails.</p><p>What would Fig say, if she told her that? Her smile would flash, with fangs and black lipstick, with a confused bark of laughter. She would be incredulous, surprised at the beginning. As much as she loves Fig, she was never very wise. “You love me?” She’d say, eyes wide, hair a mess. Adaine would reach to tuck a strand back behind her ear, and if Fig didn’t move away, she’d keep her eyes on that runaway strand and say it again.</p><p>And Ayda would be there too. “Ah. Is this a romantic confession of love, or a platonic profession of love?” Adaine could feel the phantom heat of her wings and her skin. She wouldn’t be able to get any closer than that, probably. She would shine too bright for Adaine to bear looking at her too, and all she’d be able to do is quietly confirm her romantic feelings. She would see it out of the corner of her eye, Ayda’s reaction.</p><p>Her eyes would focus and unfocus, and her finger would tap the bottom of her chin. If Adaine was lucky, a flickering maroon blush should spread across her face, like a candle behind a curtain. Maybe Fig and Ayda would share a look, or they wouldn’t be able to look at each other, or something in between.</p><p>The setting kept shifting in Adaine’s head. Maybe at Basrar’s, after a grueling battle or a fun day at the mall or a phone call from Adaine, shakily asking them to meet her there. Or at Mordred Manor, in Fig’s room, or on a hill overlooking the graveyard. Maybe it was chilly outside, and they’d need jackets, and their breath would swirl in the air around them. Ayda wouldn’t mind the cold, she thinks. Or it’d be unbearably hot, even for those who had fire in their veins. Their knees would knock together underneath a booth at Basrar’s, or their bare thighs would stick with sweat when they crowded together in this private pretend moment. When she told them, maybe they’d end up crowding closer together, subconsciously or not, or maybe they’d pull away from her. </p><p>She’d feel a little hurt, in the moment, and maybe it’d collapse into bone-deep embarrassment. Maybe Fig’s surprise would shift into something fake, something stilted. Like this was something she didn’t know how to deal with. Ayda would be better at not showing it, and her eyes would flit between Fig and Adaine and back to Fig then back to Adaine. Her hands would be folded in her lap, and her wings pulled closed behind her. </p><p>Truthfully, she didn’t know how’d she respond. Maybe the white-hot shame would jolt her into jittery action, and she’d ramble on about something stupid. “You don’t have to respond to me, or do anything, I just wanted to tell you,” she’d say, with her hands clasped together tightly. Or she’d be just as silent as they were, unwilling to break it and unwilling to accept that she’d just broken the friendship that meant so much to her.</p><p>It was only when the wood above her became blurrier than before did she realize she was crying. With a sniffle, she scrubbed at her eyes with the sleeve of her shirt. For some guilty second, maybe she could think about-</p><p>Fig pulling her in by her collar for a deep kiss, excitedly clashing her teeth against her lips and biting just hard enough to draw blood. Ayda nervously asking to kiss her too, with her hair flickering and roaring in her ears as Adaine wraps her arms around her to drink in her warmth. Fig slipping behind her and holding Adaine to her chest, a line of searing fire behind her and in front of her. Maybe she could dream about sinking into her as Ayda and Fig share a moment above her, their voices dimming to a sweet melody. </p><p>Adaine grumbles, digging her palms into her eyes. The pillow behind her head is partially stained with tears. She can’t stop thinking about these what-ifs, about running her hands through Fig’s hair, about pressing her fingers to Ayda’s rabbiting pulse, about-</p><p>She muffles a scream into her pillow, and gathers herself into a ball, trying to keep her mind from conjuring up these visions of what could be but won’t be. Adaine isn’t stupid. Out of all the realities that felt as familiar as her own body, the one she was in couldn’t be the one where she could hold their hands in hers. But she couldn’t stop dreaming, or thinking, or repeating the words over and over into the tear-drenched fabric of her pillowcase. When her breathing started to stutter all too familiarly, Boggy is summoned in an instant, and his concerned croaking helps to center her just a little bit. She presses a snotty kiss to Boggy’s spherical form, and waits until her throat opens up again.</p><p>She’s doomed, isn’t she?</p>
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